WilliamSock, a fabulous sock with feelings for his friend HaroldSock. HaroldSock, a nerd, in love with the gorgeous CatherineSock. CatherineSock, an average sock with eyes only for WilliamSock. What happens next?

Sorry for the late update, bla bla bla. Umm…Mistress of Madness/MoM/Mom (hi, mom :P), those are some excellent guesses.

Alas, I had not thought of them. Sad face.

HaroldSock stood in front of his (extremely small, to suit his height) mirror. But this time, the mirror was too small.

Because HaroldSock had crossed the line.

A lot.

And while he was sorry for what he was going to do, and sorry for the effect it would have on WilliamSock, he was not sorry about the possible outcome.

HaroldSock was disguised as WilliamSock. He was going to ask CatherineSock out (as HaroldSock, saying that WilliamSock had changed his mind), use his WilliamSock disguise on the date, then…

'What the hell is wrong with me?' HaroldSock muttered. I've disguised myself as my best friend to go on a date with the sock I like, he thought.

That was twisted.

That was crossing the line.

Maybe HaroldSock read too many comics.

Just maybe.

He sighed, looked at his disguise of stilts covered by a long, WilliamSock-esque knee-high sock. After a short mental debate on the point of doing this, he decided 'What the hell' and walked to the bedroom door.

Only chance to go back.

He stepped out into the hallway.

No going back now.

HaroldSock walked over to CatherineSock's house, not falling over once (the many glories of rehearsing hundreds of times, he thought) and thumped on the door.

(Rule of Thumb: WilliamSock always thumps.)

There was some clattering, some stumbling and some stomping before the door finally opened and KatySock, who HaroldSock remembered was CatherineSock's little sister, opened the door, a wide grin plastered on her face.

WilliamSock took a deep breath. 'I'm in love with my best friend HaroldSock and CatherineSock likes me but I want her to be with HaroldSock because they would be cute together and HaroldSock likes her.'

MarySock grinned and said, 'Firstly: Tell CatherineSock that you can't be with her because not only are you not attracted to her, but you actually can't be attracted to her.'

'Assuming a sock doesn't make An orientation-changer or something.'

MarySock laughed again. WilliamSock thought that it was pretty much impossible to find a sock happier than his mum. 'That would be great.' She sighed and patted her book.

'What book is that, Mum?'

'The Adventures of TimHuman: Of the Skyscraper and the Pliers.'

'HaroldSock loves that stuff! But wait, isn't it a comic?'

'Are you saying a grown SockWoman can't read comics, young man?'

'Nah, Mum, but I still need advice.'

'Comics are nice. You simply tell CatherineSock what I told you to say, then get over your crush.

'Three years, Mum.'

'Some crushes last longer than that,' MarySock said seriously.

WilliamSock sighed. 'Whatever. So I tell CatherineSock my situation, or orientation, and get over HaroldSock.'

'Easier said than done.' MarySock grinned devilishly. 'And it so happens that HaroldSock had already had a chat with me about this –'

Wait what.

'– and he happens to know a perfectly good young man named AndySock. Has HaroldSock talked about him?'

WilliamSock frowned. 'Nah, I don't think so.'

'Well, we thought it would be nice if you two met up.'

'Mum, are you trying to marry me off or something? You're not supposed to be involved in my love life. You're my mum.'

'Well, do you want to meet this AndySock or not?'

'Fine.'

Meanwhile, the next day, HaroldSock was to carry out Stage Two of his plan.

The stage in which he was to wear his WilliamSock disguise and go on a date with CatherineSock.

Come to think of it, he thought, he should've asked her to go to dinner at a restaurant, or a picnic, or something that didn't require walking along a beach as the sun set. Walking was hard enough, although he had improved quite a lot in the past weeks. Walking on stilts across the sand would be much harder.

(However, Rule 7: WilliamSock always prefers walking over picnics.)

5:30 pm. He'd be at CatherineSock's house in half an hour.

He took his WilliamSock disguise from under the bed and combed down the hair. The he ruffled it up again.

(Rule 8: WilliamSock always looked like he combed down his hair then messed it up again.)

HaroldSock sat down and stared at a wall.

5:40 pm. Time to put on the disguise.

HaroldSock slipped on the stilts and pulled the disguise on. He was kind of the biggest douche in the world for doing this.

Why did he end up doing it anyway?

HaroldSock stopped to think about it for a moment. Because apparently going on a date with CatherineSock when she thought he was WilliamSock was more important than being a good friend.

I could stand her up, he thought.

But he said he would be there… and CatherineSock would find out sooner or later. Yeah. That would have to happen.

He was the worst butt in the whole of SockWorld.

No going back now.

5:50.

Time to go.

CatherineSock was waiting on a bench in the front yard of her house.

She was pretty.

And HaroldSock just felt more like a douche.

He could bail out.

He had to bail out.

Now.

Or else he would be the doucheiest Douchey McDouche-Pants out there. (Of course, he was already an irredeemable douche at this point, but better late than never.)

Time to bail out.

'CatherineSock?'

Her head snapped up and she grinned widely.

Oh, no. 'There's something I have to tell you. It's really, really important. And you might want to tear me apart for this.'

'What is it?'

'This is not a date with WilliamSock. You are not on a date with WilliamSock.' Way to go, butt.

CatherineSock stood up. 'What?'

Now or never.

'You're not on a date with WilliamSock because…' Get ready for the worst thing anyone has ever done to you, ever. 'I am…' HaroldSock placed a hand on the WilliamSock costume's head. 'HaroldSock!' He ripped off the costume.

CatherineSock gasped.

HaroldSock wanted to punch himself in the face.

CatherineSock screamed.

HaroldSock made sure to not forget to punch himself in the face afterward.

CatherineSock stood up, then sat down, then jumped up and ran inside.

HaroldSock hung his head in shame, kicked off his stilts carried both them and the costume home.

Douchey McDouche-Pants indeed.

You know, if we're being entirely honest the above scene was the only reason I actually started writing this thing in the first place. (Umm… brain crack?)

(Maybe I should apologise for everything. Yeah, sorry, guys.)

… I do not know how I feel.

I'll just do some homework now.

(I also fried an egg. Now, usually my egg-frying is pretty acceptable, but that one egg was the worst thing in the world.)

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